


Eager to please

by blanketspace



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Blow Jobs, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, I have no idea what I'm doing, Light Dirty Talk, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Pet Names, Promnis Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-07
Updated: 2017-05-07
Packaged: 2018-10-29 07:20:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10849179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blanketspace/pseuds/blanketspace
Summary: But that’s where it had stopped, that’s where a mouth that peppered adoration on the column of his throat behind the closed and locked door of their hotel room ( – secret, silent, and safe ) ceased its venture and shoulders that he’s dug his hands into on more than one occasion settled back into the plush down of a rumpled comforter.  That’s where Ignis decided to show a… What’s his word ?   ——–  ah,  SULTRY side.





	Eager to please

**Author's Note:**

> i'm so sorry for what you're about to read. no beta; we die like men.

Cruel; that’s the word that he’s looking for, the one that sticks to his tongue and burrows in his mind over the indulgences offered to him with one very interesting and particular detail – he has to get them himself, flustered and fawning with a blush he knows burns brighter than the sun upon freckled skin.  Encouragement had been the theme of the night, fingers wandering and splaying over open flesh. Gloveless for once, both of them, and he relishes in the barely callused brushes that twitch over hipbones made vulnerable by the rise of his tank.  

But that’s where it had stopped, that’s where a mouth that peppered adoration on the column of his throat behind the closed and locked door of their hotel room ( – _secret, silent, and safe_  ) ceased its venture and shoulders that he’s dug his hands into on more than one occasion settled back into the plush down of a rumpled comforter.  That’s where Ignis decided to show a… What’s his word ?   ——–  ah,   _SULTRY_   side.   Lips that had always been the perfect shade, never chapped or without damnable petal part had smirked up at him. _Him_ _!_  And his camera had been left to the wayside in all these moments. Though capturing that on film might lead to some more interesting questions in the more open parts of their adventure.  

“Instead of telling me, pet, why don’t you show me what you want.”

And he’d be damned if nerves got the better of him this time.  Ignis had called it a lesson, called it an experience, something that would allow Prompto to move at his own pace with moderate instruction. While that seemed a good idea at the time that left most of the rein holding to him, nimble fingers that are oft so shutter-sure, trembling as they work down buttons of a muted, dark lavender shirt.   

What a sight to see it is, to take in, to drown in and azure irises widen at each expanse of skin revealed.  It’s not fair for him to look this good, hair still practically perfect, lips inviting with the faintest hint of a grin lingering at the edges. Those viridian hues that overlook the metal frames of his glasses?  Goddamnit, Prompto finds himself swallowing hard and settling with an eagerness further up on the man’s thighs. 

One final button and the shirt lays upon, untucked, and baring a swath of skin and muscle that hides behind such a together appearance.  it’s almost a little too much, this experience, for him to squirm readily and fidget as if he had never had this experience before. In truth, Ignis had the pleasure of being the first of a lot of things, whether he knew that or not – part of Prompto assured himself that he hadn’t been completely obvious with his lacking experience, but the tenderness shown in part with each touch of knuckles and looks spoke another tale from the taller. 

Whatever, he had his pride to keep in tact now. Among other things.  

The blond spares a glance up, tearing a heavy gaze away from the rise and fall of a sculpted chest and a raised brow is all that’s given to him in response. Expectant, waiting, yet not pushing.  Never pushing.  

He balances the palms of his hands on either side of the brunet’s waist, a shaky sigh falls across his tongue as back bows and head lowers.  His lips first land on a prominent collarbone, a dusting of affection that’s met with the soft shiver of skin beneath it.   There is pressure on his hips now, hands previously lax at their sides settle on the narrow of his waist  – encouragement by any other name and he takes it willingly.   

It’s chaste by comparison to the thoughts whirling in his head, but he moves to brush lips and teeth along the plane of the other’s chest, peppering down tokens of inexperience adoration, fumbling which each jerk of skin beneath his mouth. Lightly dancing, he wonders if Ignis is ticklish at all, the hands along his body now biting nails down into paler skin. 

He mewls and a chuckle echoes in response.  

 _Oh_ , that’s not fair at all! 

With a renewed urgency, lithe hips shimmy a smidgen down longer legs, feeling the drag of hands on his sides as his mouth presses downward.  Lavish wants cascade in what might be fevered need, kisses smattering across a taut abdomen, back arched in full and fingers hooked along the hem of grey slacks.  

A swipe of his tongue is a gift he bestows above the notch of skull carved belt buckle, quicksilver digits playfully pulling at the garment covering beautiful hips. Quick look up is something he spares, asking for assurance, asking for something that he’s doing this all right – that permission is something he too can extend, especially now.   

One more kiss and he feels fingers in his hair, the gentle scratch of nails along his skull.  And the voice that fills his ears is warm and husky, 

“I’m not stopping you.”  

No, Prompto supposes, you certainly aren’t. Shuddering breath, tongue clucks against teeth. No matter how many times they've done this (  _three times, to be exact_ ), confidence in this skill is something he more or less lacks.    Ignis must have sensed his hesitation, the hand wrapped in his hair loosely trailing from wispy tresses, thumb moving to run along the high of his cheek. The voice comes again, softer this time,  “ – Unless, you’d prefer to stop here. I know I instructed you to show me, but we needn’t go farther than you want, pet. ” 

That damnable endearment lights a fire beneath his skin. Ignis knew that, took pride in it even after it slipped out once in their previous engagements. Prompto had reacted with such urgency to the term, shuddering and groaning. He should have known that it would become a tease, a coy ministration to prod him forward to make his knees buckle.  The taller had even dared to test it once in public, garnering the desired reaction – yet probably a shopping mart venue wasn’t exactly appropriate.

A tap to his cheek and Prompto snaps himself out the reverie. An expectant look bares down on him, waiting.  Ignis is a patient man, the strained cloth beneath his palms suggest otherwise and he's determined not to disappoint. 

“No, I’m good… _Sir_ ,” pink tongue darts out to wet dry lips and Prompto dares to indulge giving the brunet a taste of his own pet-name medicine. He swears he sees the other’s pupils dilate.  

Hands work to deftly undo slack buttons and he shifts well enough to grasp the zipper between pearly teeth to gently tug down.  It earns him a chuckle and fingers shift back to lace through his hair. He wasn’t about to admit that he had taken pointers from certain magazines (the zipper thing ? Totally something that looked easier than it was in practice) or the idle musings and thoughts that kept him up at night, pressed close to the advisor in the cramped space of their tent. A muted groan falls over his tongue, palms shifting to smooth over toned hips, tugging slacks downward just enough to allow him access to his prize – Ignis forwent any undergarment for a change and it makes the blond hum happily.    

He noses prominent heat already brought to full attention, warm breath ghosting over the head of the elder’s cock. Someone might scold him for the pride that he feels now, knowing that he did this to Ignis and him alone – he never failed to be affected by the other, never failed to remember and ache from the nights before.  Ignis was always so controlled, picture perfect until these moments. Until Prompto got his lips around him.  

Bright blue gaze peaks up between pale lashes, keeping a watch on an unblemished face laden with tethered lust and the gunslinger mouths over the underside of a thick cock with a needy mewl.  If he’s lucky, if he does a good job, he’ll feel those hands that gripped his hips before cradle the back of his head as he takes the other’s hardness between his lips, resting pulsing underside on his tongue – he’ll feel that urgency, hear that low groan as he sucks and whimpers, tasting bitter precome.  Maybe he’ll be called a ‘ _good boy’_ for taking as much as he can, until he feels Ignis push his hips into freckled face, the head of his cock brushing the back of his throat.   

All of these things, all of those possibilities make him writhe and he’s only lapped at thick velvet length.  Lips move to place a dainty kiss to a weeping tip and it earns him a chuckle from above.  

Prompto shifts his weight, resting as comfortably as he can between taut legs. His hand moves to grasp the length before him, giving an experimental tug, watching for the flutter of lashes denoting he’s doing a decent job.  The hand in his hair urges, nails scraping on his scalp playfully and it’s all he needs to lean forward, tongue tracing the motion of his hand.  Ignis is relatively well endowed, proportional but thick and sweetly curved and he’ll never fit it all in his mouth on the first go, not without choking, not without the bite of tears at the edges of his eyes, and a soreness aching in his jaw.

Freckled lips part, tongue padding atop bottom teeth as he slips the head between his lips, mewling heatedly.  The taste is bitter, always is, not that he minds it when a rumbling groan echoes in his ears as a reward.  His name fills the moments between breaths as his hand works what his mouth can’t take, the dull stretch of his jaw reminding him to go slow.

Gaze flicks up, pale lashes batting down over heavily lidded eyes and he pulls off for a second before taking Ignis back into his mouth, trying between gasping breaths to take more and more of that cock. 

Rushing this experience isn't something he had planned on but how can he not though, not when the noises he earns make his heart hammer or his own dick twitch trapped in leather pants? All he wants to do is snake a hand down to alleviate some pressure of his own, but he knows he'll get too lost in the moment -- not giving Ignis the best that he can. The blond swallows against the member nestled in his mouth, pulling back at the gentlest buck of hips into his mouth. He thinks he hears an apology murmured out between groans, though the sloppy sounds he’s making with his mouth drown it out. 

The grip in his hair tightens as his fist pumps steadily and he moans when the tip of the other’s cock brushes the back of his throat for the first time that night.   “ –  _Astrals_ , Prompto, you’re perfect. You have no idea how beautiful you look sucking me right now. " He'd be smiling at that confession if he didn't have a mouth full of his boyfriend's dick.   " -- will you let me come in your mouth? ”

Oh shit, he will.  He wants that more than anything.  It’s disgusting how much he wants that and completely desperate the way he keens at the suggestion.  He wants nothing more than to feel the pulse of Ignis’s cock on his tongue, to memorize the image of him moaning through gritted teeth as he spills into his mouth. The blond mewls in affirmation, arching his back to readily take more of his lover, elbows shifting to bracket the sides of narrow hips. All pretense abandoned as his fingers move away from stroking to splay on hips and he takes more into his mouth, jaw protesting with each centimeter. 

It doesn’t take long. Devious praises turn into short grunts as he watches Ignis unravel on his tongue, chest rapidly rising and falling. Prompto’s eyes glued to features as they screw shut, brow knitted and lips dropping open in a loud gasp – that’s the only warning he receives before the other comes, hips jerking upward and forcing the smaller to accept a twitching cock in the back of his throat, pulsing and spilling. He fights the instinct to gag, slowly swallowing all that he can, lingering aftershocks spurting against his tongue and dribbling out of the side of his mouth.  

What a mess he must look like, puffy lips, glazed eyes, and so horribly inappropriate with come drying on his chin. Though he’s not nearly as phenomenal as the vision Ignis sports, lazily writhing with head tossed back on pillows, heaving breath in gulps.

Oversensitive, softening flesh slips from his mouth and he ignores the rawness feeling twinging the back of his throat. It’s time to take a moment to revel in this after glow; Ignis had a legendary recovery time, something about Crowns Guard's stamina sparked into his mind as he rests his head on a prone hip.

Ignis’s breathing steadies out after a moment and Prompto takes a cue to pipe up amidst the humid air, " So, was it good?"

A stifled laugh, Ignis shakes his head, tapered fingers pulling away from golden tresses to run through his own, sweat soaked and mussed. "Prompto, don't ever ask me that question when you very well know the answer. "

"Yeah, but was it _good_?" A hand swats at his shoulder. 

"You're incorrigible but yes, of course. Does that make you happy?" Prompto chirps and nods, nose crinkling, ignoring the roll of green eyes.  Still, he doesn’t have much time to bask or smirk, not as fingers reach down to grasp at him, urging him upward. "  -- Fantastic, now come here. I'm not so selfish as to ignore your needs." 

“Iggy, you don’t have ---“  A palm cups over his clothed hardness, pushing the flat of a broad hand against an, at the moment, offensive zipper  --  Prompto moans brokenly, bucking into the pressure, a little too desperate for his own good.  “ – ah _!_ okay, maybe… _Maybe_ I wouldn’t mind.”   Totally an understatement. 

Lips wander the column of his throat, tracing over the line of his pulse while skilled fingers have already begun to make quick work of his jeans. 

“Good. Now, let me reward you.”

**Author's Note:**

> /throws hands up and leaves. idek how to write porn, like not even spicy porn -- i wanted to give you ghost peppers and i gave you trash can tabasco instead. i'm sorry. also vague filthy mouthed ignis ? 
> 
> if you liked it, let me know. comments are really appreciated.  
> && i'm logging this in my weird little collection to a much larger story i'll feel more comfortable posting later on.


End file.
